Chapter 8.5: Upbeat

London, UK. July 2002

Forget Harry Potter, I should’ve been the new James Bond.

Call me super spy in disguise. I wore a cap and a face mask. Even my sense of style was twenty years ahead of the curve.

No shades, though. I wasn’t that much of a douche just yet.

There was a banner for the upcoming release of ‘Chamber of Secrets’ plastered on the train’s wall just behind me. Not even the man poring over his copy of ‘Goblet of Fire’ noticed.

I jostled as the train did. Playfully, I swayed around the stanchion in the near empty cart. That finally drew someone’s attention.

“Sit down, Mr Rhys.” Cadbury gently but sternly commanded.

Did I listen? “Nah.” I tried to reach up and hold the hand rails swinging above my head. I was still too short. Did the train then jostle again, making me bump my dome on the metal rod near me? “Ouch!” Yes.

“Oh, for the love of-!” that annoyed exclamation came from Anita. She’d be of use on today’s outing, and so had flown down for the week. “You have precious few brain cells as it is. You can’t afford to lose any more.”

I raised my cap and gingerly rubbed my scalp. “I’m smart!” I protested.

Cadbury rifled through the bag on her lap, pulled out a binder, and thrust it into my hand. “Perhaps you should reread the script. It might have just fallen out of your ears.” Given that I’d literally gone over it an hour ago, it seemed my nanny was in agreement with my agent. Honestly, the nerve of these people. I handed it back.

“I knew we should have taken a cab,” Anita huffed, crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. As soon as she did, she jolted and pulled away from the chair’s surprisingly sticky surface. “Ugh. This place is disgusting!”

“What’d you expect? It’s the London underground.” I inhaled deeply the putrid aroma of public transportation. “Burger King, and piss and sweat. Just be happy the conductors aren’t on strike today.”

“I ask again. Why didn’t we take the cab?” She complained.

“Even I’m not dumb enough to pay fifty quid for a ten-minute ride. There’s no such thing as a lunch tariff. That cabbie was totally a liar, wasn’t he, Cadbury?”

This time, she agreed with me. “As honest as a Nigerian Prince.”

“Fine!” Anita tucked into herself. “How much longer are we stuck in this poo-poo train?”

Next station, Holborn. Doors will open to your right. Called out over the intercom. I grabbed one of their hands each and pulled the ladies up off their seats. “That’s us.”

Less than five minutes on foot from the tube station, the three of us reached our destination. We entered an office building that had that strange blend of classic Victorian English exterior and dystopian corporate interior.

We were led down a corridor to a door that had a handful of chairs acting as a waiting area. I handed Cadbury my mask and cap as she sat down. “Wish me luck!” I felt surprisingly nervous.

“You shan’t need it.” her response may have been curt, but damn if it wasn’t inspirational.

The audition room door swung open. A lithe blonde woman who I knew to be the casting director of the film greeted us with a warm smile. “Bas, welcome! We’re thrilled to have you here. Please, come in. I’m Fiona Weir.” She gestured to the genial elderly man waving from behind a table. “We’ll be joined by Richard Curtis, who, as I’m sure you know, is directing ‘Love, Actually’.

“Hello, and thanks for having me.” I entered, with Anita following closely. The table where they sat was full of scattered notes next to a camera pointed at a couch. A casting couch. Thankfully, it wasn’t black.

When Anita and I sat down, I’m sure we breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of any suspicious stickiness - though for very different reasons I imagined.

My legs swung a couple inches off the floor, which Fiona took immediate notice of. “You know, I was worried you’d be a little too old for ‘Sam’, but looking at you, I’m relieved.”

“Not often I get complimented for being short. So, what’s on the agenda today?”

Richard Curtis piped up while sifting through the papers on his desk. “The part is not all that complicated. I’d like to see you, specifically, run a quieter scene.” He handed a sheaf of papers over to me. It was the follow up to the titanic scene. “You can run it with whoever you want.”

I turned to Anita and handed her the script. I’d memorized my lines already. “Here you go, dad.”

Anita, caught off guard, stammered “Me!?”

I played the scene back in my head. The one thing that stuck out to me the most was how much the two actors’ physical proximity added to the scene, so I sought to replicate it. I reached down, grabbed Anita’s ankles, and put her legs over my lap. I wasn’t comfortable enough to do this with the other two in the room. Anita squawked, but ultimately relented, knowing better than to get in the way of my performance.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

With the script in hand, Anita and I began.

[“You know Sam, there isn’t just one person for everyone…” her voice was unsure and a little toneless.

“It was for Kate and Leo. And there was for you and mum.” I punctuated that with a light thump to her leg to get Anita to relax. “And there is for me. She’s the one!” I was soft-spoken but determined. I raised my index finger, highlighting the one.

“Fair enough…. A-and her name’s Joanna?” she stuttered a bit, but funnily enough, her discomfort and hesitance added to the overall delivery. I decided to play off of it.

I ducked my head and started to fiddle with the hem of Anita’s trousers. “Yeah, I know.” I looked shyly up at her with a small smile. “Just like mum.”]

At the conclusion of the scene, the two judges looked at each other. Fiona’s expression was questioning, while Curtis was pleased. Fiona nodded appreciatively. She clapped her hands and turned to us. “Fantastic, Bas, you’ve got the role. Welcome aboard!”

Genuinely surprised by the swift decision, I commented, “Are auditions usually this decisive? Don’t you wanna like, have a callback or someth- “

Anita suddenly pressed down hard on my lap to get me to shut up.

Fiona chuckled. “You not only have a potential box office draw, but Alan Rickman also vouched for you. This audition was more of a formality, to be perfectly honest.”

Before I could respond, Anita, seizing the opportunity, interjected, “Speaking of formalities, let’s discuss compensation and schedule details.”

“As we’d discussed earlier, the offer is for three-hundred-and-fifty-thousand pounds.” Anita made a face. Fiona scrambled to explain. “It’s a meager budget film with an ensemble cast with some huge names. If we pay one person too north or south of the others, we’ll have a revolt on our hands. We’ve kept the pay as fair as we can, I assure you.”

We already knew the pay was fair after Alan had kindly disclosed his own contract, but that wouldn’t stop Anita from trying to take a bigger bite.

“Can’t help it then, I guess.” Anita shrugged. “Bas does have a tight schedule, after all.” If the total pay wasn’t high enough, reduce the time commitment.

“We understand. We’ll be shooting from the last quarter of ‘02 to mid ‘03. We can keep most of it flexible, except for January of next year. The entire cast will have to be available then.”

Anita looked at me to confirm. I gave her the ok. “That works.”

With both parties nodding in agreement, we all shook on it. The actual paper work would be handled by the respective legal departments later.

As they wrapped up and made to leave, Richard Curtis approached me. “Before we break, I have a bit of an odd request, Bas.”

I tilted my head inquiringly, prompting him to continue.

“You can say no, of course, but I’d like your help with casting another role for the movie.”

“Uh…sure. But I’m not sure I have that kind of influence, to be honest with you.”

He laughed. “You do, for this!” He rummaged around a bag and pulled out a replica Hogwarts cloak. “I’m trying to hire my daughter for the illustrious role of lobster number two. She’d said she’d agree if I got her a meeting with Kiera Knightly and an autograph from Harry Potter.”

Though bewildered, I signed the cloak with a proffered marker. I felt the cheap fabric in my hands that even polyester or nylon would be ashamed to claim. But I signed nonetheless. “Just an autograph? Doesn’t she want to meet me, too?”

“You’re not Kiera Knightly.” He said, amused.

“I guess Slytherin for her makes sense.” I joked and handed the green-lined cloak back to Curtis.

As we collected Cadbury and made our way back to Leavesden, I couldn’t shake the desire to improve merchandise quality for young fans who deserved better.

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Leavesden Studios, UK. July 2002.

Summer was hot, but shooting was not.

Filming for Chamber of Secrets was ready to finish. Barring any unexpected calls for reshoots, the cast, including all the kids, would finally be released for summer break while the movie fully moved into post production and promotion.

With nothing to do today, I was spending it getting ‘baby’s first drumming lessons’ from Dan Radcliffe, the resident percussionist on set. The Love, Actually production team had asked me to learn at least the basics. Until I buy one on my return to LA, I’d have to settle for the various takeout containers that I used to substitute a real drum set. In my infinite wisdom, I’d specially ordered Chinese just so I could use the chopsticks as drumsticks.

“So the basic rhythm is eight beats.” Dan diligently explained with sunglasses on. “One-and-two-and-three-and-four.” He clapped at every word. He pointed to the tall round container that previously held the egg drop soup. “This is your high hat. You hit it on every beat with your left stick.”

“Got it,” I nodded along with his instruction.

The next container he pointed to was the flat square one that still had a little fried rice in it. “This is the bass drum. You need to hit it with the right stick on even counts. So just the two and the four. And lastly for the snare, just stamp on the packet on the one and three.” he gestured to the crumpled plastic under my right foot.

‘Let’s party!” I clacked the chopsticks in my hands, but right before I could, someone tackled my back. I lurched forward, which sent the takeaway boxes sprawling.

“The drums!” Dan lamented.

“You’re back! How was the audition?” Emma, with arms around my neck and hanging off me, welcomed my return excitedly.

“That’s where you were over the weekend?” Rupert hopped on and took a seat on the table.

“Where’d you think I was?”

The last of the group made himself known. “Thought you’d been fired. At least that was the rumour going around.” Felton facetiously provided while helping Dan pick up the rubbish.

Just as I was about to retort, Emma barked again. “Stop ignoring me! Tell me how it went.” She demanded.

I chuckled, reached over, and patted her head to calm her. “I got the part, so probably well.” She screeched happily and proceeded to choke me half to death.

“What’s the movie about?” “What’s the part?” “Who else is in it?” The three boys threw out their own questions.

“It’s a romance!” Emma eagerly answered for me. “I heard it’s called Love, Actually.”

“Romance…” like typical preteen boys, they whined in disgust.

Rupert laced his finger and brought his hands up to the side of his cheek. “Are you going to go all kissy kissy?” He mocked.

“Oh, grow up!” Emma scolded. The two other boys just made gagging noises at each other.

“Not me personally, but I do get a kiss.” I revealed.

“Wait, really?” shocked, Emma whipped her head around to me.

“You’re bonkers, mate. If I were you, I’d only do action.”

“Just on the cheek.” I placated. “And tell you what, I promise the next movie I do, I’ll race a car or something.”